


Guilty Pleasures

by j520j



Series: Everybody Loves Aziraphale [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Body Horror, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Guilty Pleasures, Infidelity, M/M, Or Maybe a Little Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j520j/pseuds/j520j
Relationships: Aziraphale/Hastur (Good Omens)
Series: Everybody Loves Aziraphale [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1463242
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Guilty Pleasures

"This ... uh ... n-not what I was expecting!" muttered Aziraphale, covering his mouth and nose with his hand.

The humans were dead. Not that the angel had checked, but it was unlikely that they were still alive with their bellies open and guts out. The blood, which painted the floor and walls dark red, was curdled with a sickly ferrous odor. Added to this was the odor of meat kept out of the fridge for at least a day.

If the stomach of angels worked like the stomach of mortals, Aziraphale would have thrown his dinner out as soon as he entered that room. A disgusting room from which, absurd as the idea was, he entered on his own accord.

"This is a morgue, angel!" a mocking voice whispered in his ear. "What did you expect besides dead people?"

Behind him was a man covered by the shadows of a dimly lit corridor. He was a thin man with shaggy white hair and unusually dark eyes. The tip of the lit cigarette cast a tinny light in his lips.

Aziraphale startled and stepped back, almost slipping in the blood that soaked the floor. "You didn't...! You didn't kill them, did you?!"

"They were already dead when I arrived." the man shrugged. “And some were all open anyway. Car accident. Beautiful thing to see!"

“Uh ...! But I don't think this is the normal procedure of storing bodies in the Royal London Hospital morgue. Why did you do this?

"What did you expect? Candles? Flowers?” the tone was even more mocking. The man stepped out of the shadows and stubbed out his cigarette in his palm. His pale face, except for the green color of the blisters on the sides of his head, was overjoyed. “I, Hastur, have my own ideas on how to make a romantic decoration!”

Aziraphale bit his lip, holding the comment that almost escaped. The word 'romance' had no place there. _In the name of the Most High!!!_ he thought as his feet pointed toward the door.

"Ah, the boredom of eternal life!" Hastur noticed the angel's indecision and walked in front of the door to the exit, closing it with one hand. “What to do when the perversions of decadentists are no longer new? When are the dreams of Joris-Karl Huysmans only pale shadows of what reality has already shown us? When even the Marquis de Sade's narratives make us yawn with boredom? ”

The angel might have replied that he was surprised that his nasty host was literate enough to know such authors, ( _well, these artists are probably in Hell now, so it makes sense!_ ) But all that escaped his lips was a surprised cry when his clothes were torn off by something that was certainly not human hands. They could not even be called 'hands'.

Crimson tentacles sprang from the bloody puddles, enveloping the angel's body.

Aziraphale barely had time to conjure up a miracle to save his precious Victorian coat from being stained with blood on the floor, leaving it hanging on an unbelievably clean hanger inside that room. The angel landed on the floor, his back touched the curdled blood, and the sticky sensation on his skin made him grimace. As the tentacles finished removing their clothing, he could feel the room temperature rise. A demonic miracle, no doubt, but it came in handy, as lying on the cold ground was not pleasant.

He was naked with his legs spread in a gynecological position. His wrists and ankles were bound by the thick, slimy, pulsing red tentacles. They held the angel in that position that, as much as it might indicate the imminence of a rape, had his reluctant acquiescence. Although his frightened expression might indicate that he was already sorry to agree to that.

"Thank you for fulfilling my request!" Hastur whispered, undressing his clothes and looking between the angel's legs. “It's been a long time since I've been diving in such a wet and deep puddle!”

The demon referred to a specific part of the anatomy that Aziraphale had manifested especially for that occasion at the host's request. His vulva was open and exposed. Hastur knelt before him and began to slide his abnormally long tongue over the edges.

The angel arched his back, staining his pale blond hair with the blood splattered on the floor, making them almost red. The sensation was rougher than he'd expected, but it was quite pleasurable and made all the air in his lungs escape in muffled moans. The licks were long and hungry, sometime with a little of bitting. Hastur didn't mind with the others pleasure, only drinking into the angel's juice as a thirsty man.

Aziraphale looked at the demon in the exatly moment his devil tongue (literally!!!) dropped out of his mouth and began to creep into the angel's wet entrance.

The sight startled him, but he didn't have time to scream in fear as the rough reddish worm penetrated deep inside his body, causing him to swallow the scream. Gradually, the rest of Hastur's body began to crumble into the form of thousands of worms of all shapes, spreading the length of the angel's body.

Bristle worms, whose iridescent colors resembled creatures living in the eternal dark of the Abyssal Pit, were beginning to walk over his skin speckled with blond hair and clotted blood. A pair of chitinous bristles, like the fangs of a centipede, dug into one hardened nipple and clenched until the angel sobbed in pain and pleasure. Ringed worms penetrated the available holes, including nose, anus and ears. If the angel had to breathe oxygen, he would probably drown with his throat bogged with worms.

And that was just the beginning.

Struggling hard, unable even to speak because of the huge pulsing worm that had entered his mouth, Aziraphale indicated that he could no longer stand those nasty foreplay. And, to his surprise, Hastur decided to fulfill his silent and desperate request. Gradually, the worms regrouped to regain the form of the demon body, who stood over the angel with his long, erect phallus already positioned before his wet entrance. Grabbing the blonde's wrists, Hastur gave a deep thrust, drawing a groan of pain from Aziraphale.

“S-s-slow down...!” the angel asked.

"Heh, I'm glad you're not asking to stop!" the demon said, after another lunge, a little slower. “Not that I would fulfill your plea! We have learned not to give a fuck to the pleas of the damned in Hell. ”

"We're n-not... in the He-AH!" the angel stopped abruptly when he felt a hard thrust hit the base of his womb.

"Are you sure?" Hastur said mockingly, looking around. The morgue room looked like a branch in hell at that moment.

The demon began to increase the pace, fucking the angel hard and somewhat painfully. Gradually Aziraphale's body began to get used to the brutal thrusts, though he was sure his tender womanhood was bleeding. He began to feel the way inside his body getting slippery, but he was sure Hastur had not yet expelled his seed. Once again he looked at what was going on below his waist, and realized that a huge yellow larva was sliding at the base of his groin, his chitinous bristles leaking an orange liquid that further lubricated his entrance.

"Aaaahhh!" he exclaimed, closing his eyes. He didn't want to look anymore. But if he did, he would realize that the larva now had its bristles on his little pink bud, making a leech-like succession. A sensation that passed between pain and pleasure. "Ahhh ... aaaaAAAHHHHH !!!" he gritted his teeth, coming for the first time in that hideous night. "F-f-fuuuuck!"

"My pleaaaaasure!" was the demon's response, also locking his teeth as he felt the angel's insides clenching his cock.

Aziraphale began to feel his two entrances being penetrate. The larva had now slid into his rectum and was penetrating more and more. The advantage of being a supernatural creature was that you could shape certain parts of your body to add or delete whatever you wanted. The angel had a vulva, but at the same time he had a prostate. Once again, he began to moan wildly.

The demon's hands gripped the angel's shoulders, digging his nails into the skin until it left marks. His pale, slender body clutched the soft, delicate forms of the blond, his mouth leaving marks on his neck, between sucking and biting. It was possible to feel Aziraphale's carotid vein pulsing so much it looked as if it would break the skin.

With a hoarse cry, Hastur came inside the angel, while the blond came a second time. Both his arse and his cunt were soaked. The wet noise of the demon's larva and penis sliding out of his body was foul, but he was too lost in pleasure to hear it.

The demon deposited his sticky seed inside him and within seconds he was hard again. He set the angel's body - which by this time was almost completely bathing in blood - aside and resumed his thrusts as he entered his vulva diagonally. This took a few more moans of pleasure from Aziraphale, who was already used to that rude treatment.

Grabbing the angel by the hair, the demon put him on all fours and began to penetrate him from behind, hitting his already hypersensitized prostate. With his forehead and left arm resting on the floor, Aziraphale began to touch his clit, strumming it gently as he felt the orgasm grow again. This time, he didn't do a foolish thing, like to open his eyes and check what was going on on his below, but whatever Hastur was doing again was pleasant - and a little painful, as always.

Hastur's seed once again filled the angel's insides, running down his buttocks. Panting, he penetrated two fingers inside Aziraphale's vagina, helping the angel build his third orgasm. The latter came more softly, heralded by the low moan and tremor that ran through the blond's massive thighs.

Exhausted, the angel lay on the floor to catch his breath. Hastur lay beside him, conjuring two cigarettes in his hands. He put them in his mouth and made a flame appear in his thumb (luckily it was just normal fire) and lit both cigarettes, offering one to the blond. Aziraphale has not smoked since discovering that tobacco spoiled the taste of food, but accepted the cigarette anyway.

For a few minutes the two fell silent, just blowing smoke into the air. They were both covered in blood and sweat from head to toe, their bodies strained with exertion. In Aziraphale's case, he had some injuries from Hastur's rough treatment, some cuts, bruises and bites, but he didn't care. In fact, he was really in need of something more intense in those days.

"Is Crowley better than me?" the demon suddenly asked.

"What? Err… it depends.” the angel stubbed out his cigarette. "He certainly can't change his body shape as fast and as often as you do."

"Heh, flattered!" Hastur took a long drag that burned the cigarette to the butt. "But surely he gives you more pleasure than I."

“There is no comparing. I love hi— ” for a moment, Aziraphale thought he had said too much, but then remembered that it was Hastur. _Terrible, dangerous, but at the same time lonely and needy Hastur!_ "Well ... I love Crowley, and this fact alone already makes me feel more pleasure with him, no matter what he does."

"Still, you come to me looking for more."

"I can't ask Crowley to rub my face on the floor while he fucks me until I bleed." the angel scowled. Neither did he believe he had just said that. "He would never do that, even if it was to please me."

"Hah, what a lousy devil that bloke is!"

"Yeah, he won't admit it, but he's... nice."

"Hmm, 'nice'..." Hastur gave a bland laugh. "It reminds me of... another demon I met."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow. The demon had touched on that subject before, but never developed it. The angel knew that this was a very intimate matter and that he would probably speak at the right time. Or maybe he would never talk about it. It didn't matter.

Turning to face the demon, the blond hugged him and laid his white-haired head on his chest, offering comfort. Hastur accepted that caress, but only for a few moments.

"You better get out of here, angel." he rose from the floor washed with warm blood and human viscera. “Soon the hospital staff I put to bed will wake up.”

"Yes of course. I ... I'm going then.”

Conjuring a miracle, Aziraphale's body was free of dirt and blood, as were his clothes - courtesy of Hastur. The angel could not understand how demonic miracles could be so good at staining fabric.

After dressing, both went to the hospital exit. They kept their distance, so you couldn't tell they were in each other's company. And, deep down, they weren't.

"Well then..." the angel looked at him. “...thanks.”

"Don't thank me."

“Feel free to visit my bookstore whenever you want, dear boy.”

"Humpf!"

That said, the demon turned his back and walked away. Aziraphale went to the taxi stand, walking with some difficulty after the violent sex he had had.

 _Sorry Crowley._ he thought, always feeling guilty after meeting Hastur. _Sorry, Hastur..._ he thought right then, because he knew it.

He knew what Crowley had done.

The angel would probably continue to have secret encounters with the white-haired demon. And he would never be sure, within the turmoil of emotions that always plagued him at these times, whether he continued to do this to punish Crowley, to compensate Hastur, or... to punish himself.


End file.
